Chapter 35: Eating Flesh (Part VII) - The Goddess

The night was as thick as ink. Yang Yundong and Allen walked one after the other on the dusty, muddy road, slowly exploring the western side of the village.

The system prompt stated that the truth was hidden in the words of the villagers. The earlier the truth was found, the fewer people would be harmed later on.

The villagers would not come out until nightfall. If one wanted to question them, venturing out at night was mandatory.

After dinner, Yang Yundong had tried to organize some of the players to go out and explore, but helplessly, most of them gave him cold shoulders, and Zhu Ling even accused him of disregarding the safety of others.

The players were total strangers; knowing he had no grounds to say more, he had no choice but to leave the courtyard alone to gather clues by himself.

Fortunately, Allen was also a fearless character who cheerfully tagged along right behind him.

Two people were always better than one; they could look out for each other while working, and it would be easier to call for backup if danger arose.

Amidst the silence, Allen could no longer hold back and asked, "Yang, can you tell me what this weird game is all about? I still haven't figured out how I ended up here..."

"No one knows what it truly is," Yang Yundong sighed, shaking his head. "Perhaps it's a set of rules, perhaps it's a massive supernatural event, or perhaps it's an experiment deployed by a high-dimensional civilization. The result is that certain people were accidentally selected and dragged into the copy."

"Cool!" Allen whistled. "So, is this a good thing or a bad thing? I heard that voice say it could grant any wish of mine..."

"It's not a good thing." Yang Yundong stopped in his tracks, turning back to look at him. "Most people will die in the game, dying carelessly and without any dignity. Even if one is lucky enough to survive, what walks back into reality might not even be human anymore..."

"My God, is it that terrifying?"

The moon hung high in the mid-heaven. In the profound stillness, not even the chirping of cicadas could be heard.

Short houses stood in rows like grave mounds, crowding around a fairly large one-story bungalow. The slogan on it, "Exert utmost energy and strive for the upper reaches," had long since faded, looking instead like filth randomly splashed on it, dripping downward.

Allen disliked quietness and began to make conversation out of nothing: "I've never been to the rural areas of Long County before, so I'll just treat this as a free trip. But what that old hag said was truly terrifying—people starved to death in every room, making me too scared to stay inside... Uh..."

Seeming to echo his words, a crushing wave of hunger struck. His stomach contracted violently from cramping spasms, and he knelt down tremblingly, stuffing his fist into his mouth.

Yang Yundong knelt down as well, his complexion ashen like mud, clearly also caught off guard by the sudden hunger.

Maintaining his composure, he tremblingly felt around in his pocket for two pieces of divine flesh, kept one for himself, and handed the other to Allen.

The two ravenously devoured the divine flesh, and the hunger finally receded like a tide.

Allen swallowed the last scrap of meat in a disheveled state, only belatedly smelling the scent of blood and feeling the pain.

He lowered his head and saw that his right hand was covered in tooth marks and dripping with blood—he had actually bitten off a piece of flesh from himself while consumed by hunger.

Had Yang Yundong not produced the divine flesh in time, he likely would have eaten himself piece by piece!

Before personally experiencing a brush with death, no one would believe that danger was so close at hand.

Allen suddenly realized that this unusual encounter was unlike the outdoor adventures and extreme sports he had participated in before; people really could die inexplicably, without warning or reason...

His blind optimism was punctured, and there was no longer any relaxed expression on his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Yang Yundong suddenly made a silencing gesture toward him.

Startled, Allen raised his eyes and looked forward to see faint, eerie green spots of light flickering in the darkness, like ghosts, like will-o'-the-wisps...

...

In the side room, Zhu Dafu lay on the bed, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.

He was seventy-eight years old, having farmed his entire life and never even left the town. In his spare time, he would do nothing more than scroll through short videos, listen to the news, and watch traditional dramas.

He had never studied books, nor had he ever read infinite flow novels, let alone played horror games.

Three days ago, he was pulling his cart to the town market when he happened to run into public security officers arresting a criminal.

That criminal was shot dead on the spot. Just as Zhu Dafu was passing by, he saw a black metal card fly out from a pool of blood and merge into his body.

And just like that, in a daze, he entered the "weird game."

Stumbling and bumbling his way through the first copy—points, True Endings, or Normal Endings—he understood none of it. He only knew that from then on, every three days, he had to face ghosts, all sorts of bizarre ghosts.

At his age, once he had something on his mind, he couldn't fall asleep.

Zhu Dafu recalled the experiences of the past few days, growing more and more awake the more he thought about it.

He thought, this time is good; this village, this house, and these people are all styles he was familiar with. Unlike last time, which involved "genes" and "cloning," none of which he could understand.

What that old woman surnamed Su talked about was also something he could grasp quite a bit of.

He had lived through that era himself. The first to starve to death was his grandfather, and the next to starve to death was his younger sister. They had also prayed to gods and Buddhas, so why hadn't a kind-hearted god ever come to save them?

Zhu Dafu rolled over and happened to see his roommate's young face.

He thought again, everything was good this time except that the people with him were all too young. There was even a little girl in college, younger than his own granddaughter.

At his age, dying meant dying; why were those damned ghosts looking for these kids?

While indulging in these wild thoughts, he heard the sound of a kitchen knife chopping against a bedboard—"thud, thud, thud"—coming from not far away.

Something was wrong outside.

He hurriedly nudged his roommate beside him, lowering his voice to shout, "Young man, wake up! Do you hear what that sound is?"

Yet the roommate slept extremely soundly and heavily, a faint smile lingering at the corners of his lips as if he were trapped in a sweet dream and unwilling to wake up.

"Something's wrong, stop sleeping!" Zhu Dafu raised his volume, shaking his roommate's shoulder.

The roommate flipped over stiffly, shifting into a flat, supine position. The moonlight shone through the lattice window onto the young man's face, where golden blood vessels spread like leaf veins, writhing beneath skin so thin it was translucent.

Startled, Zhu Dafu tumbled off the bed, suddenly remembering that this roommate had eaten the divine flesh after dinner...

Could it be that the divine flesh shouldn't have been eaten, and eating it would cause a person to sleep to their death?

The sound of the blade outside drew closer and closer, accompanied by extremely light footsteps and the sound of wind. Talisman papers rustled intensely, and a gust of wind blew the door open.

In the darkness, Zhu Dafu could no longer see anything; he could only cower endlessly into the corner.

The sound of a blade hacking through bone—"click, click, click"—rang out nearby. A rich, pungent smell of blood suddenly exploded, immediately followed by the sounds of meat and bone being chewed—"crunch, crunch"—and the sound of swallowing—"glug, glug."

Zhu Dafu didn't dare to even draw a breath. He buried his head into his knees and covered his ears with his hands, acting just like an ostrich.

After an unknown length of time, all sounds died down. The dark shadow retreated with a sense of satiation, and the side room grew slightly brighter.

In the cold, white light, Zhu Dafu saw nothing but a bed drenched in golden-red blood and pale, shattered bones.

His mouth wide open, his throat rolled with a hoarse sound of weeping: "Oh, Heavens... Mother..."

His stomach suddenly began to cramp, and long-lost hunger welled up of its own accord. Every inch of skin cried out with the desire to devour, while simultaneously beginning to emit an alluring, meaty aroma...

It was as if he had been dragged back seventy years into that era shrouded by the shadow of death, seeing once again after many long years the parched earth, the stench of decay, bloated faces, and yellowish-white pus...

Memories of the past overlapped with the sensations of the present moment. He bit down hard on his arm, like biting into a steamed bun, his mouth watering.

...

On the other side, Qi Si felt the hunger clinging to him like a shadow, and with a sense of resignation, he grabbed a piece of divine flesh, shoved it into his mouth, and swallowed it.

A coolness spread from his mouth all the way down to his stomach, bringing a sticky, slippery texture along the way, yet tasting somewhat like a jelly-like dessert that wasn't repulsive at all.

The sweet flavor burst on the tip of his tongue, while a faint, elusive meaty aroma teased his nostrils, seeming to emanate from his own body before vanishing in an instant like an illusion.

Qi Si looked down at his right hand. For a split second, the outline of his skin flickered with a phantom image; beneath skin as thin as cicada wings, his blood vessels glowed with a brilliant golden hue, emitting wisps of indistinct black smoke.

The situation was clear: refusing to eat the divine flesh meant facing the short-term crisis of immediate death; eating the divine flesh meant facing a long-term crisis with an unknown outcome.

Survival was not easy. Both paths were treacherous, and every choice was a high-stakes gamble, unless... a new factor was introduced into the game theory model.

Leaning against the wooden door, Qi Si listened to the commotion outside. Hearing the "click, click" and "crunch, crunch" sounds, he knew that the so-called [Man-Cooker] had resolved its dinner problem.

The night was silent, the moonlight like water, and the courtyard was as peaceful as any ordinary rural homestead.

Clutching the Fate Pocket Watch in his hand, Qi Si pushed the door open and walked straight toward the sealed dry well in the courtyard.

Granny Su had knife wounds on her body, but she certainly wasn't hacked to death; judging from the state of her body, her corpse had remained in a cold, cramped, and damp place for a very long time.

It was very likely she had been driven to desperation and thrown down the well to her death.

Yet for some reason, the person who had chased her with a blade, wanting to consume her, had not immediately retrieved her corpse from the bottom of the well—surely not out of pickiness, disgusted that soaking in water made it anything less than fresh.

The well most likely held something bizarre.

Timing himself, Qi Si took ten seconds to walk to the wellside, followed by three more seconds to brush away the fallen leaves covering the well lid.

Carved clearly on the lid, made of a mixture of brick, stone, and cement, were four characters—

[God resides in the well.]

God resides in the well? Wasn't the "god" from whom the villagers carved meat said to have descended from the heavens? Why would it be at the bottom of a well?

Or could it be... more than one god?

The scene before his eyes changed abruptly. The daylight grew bright, as if piercing straight through the fabric of time.

"Drown her. There's a bunch of kids at home already, and with the war going on, this one can't be fed..." Someone was speaking.

"Waaah..." An infant's cries were shrill and desperate.

The hands of the Fate Pocket Watch stopped turning.

Qi Si saw that the originally sealed well was completely bare, its surface reflecting rippling light.

Standing by the wellside was a man who turned the winch above, lowering a wooden bucket containing an infant down into the well.

The moment the bucket was about to dip into the water, it suddenly stopped descending as if supported by something, and began to slowly rise instead.

Terrified, the man retreated step by step, watching helplessly as the bucket drifted back up to the ground.

A pair of crimson eyes opened within the well, and golden chains flickered faintly in the darkness.

A Taoist priest in black robes and with golden pupils happened to be passing through the village, so the man brought this strange occurrence to him for guidance.

The Taoist said, "She is a child blessed by the god; her soul shall ultimately belong to the god."

The infant grew up safely, becoming a carefree maiden. The villagers all called her a divine maiden, having her preside over sacrificial rituals year after year.

During a bout of play, the maiden accidentally slipped and fell into the well.

Miraculously, she suffered no injuries from the fall. Instead, she entered a strange realm shimmering with golden flowing light, where she saw a crimson-clad deity entwined with golden vines.

At the time, she didn't know it was a god. Tilting her head, she asked innocently, "Who are you? Why are you so pretty, yet hiding in this dark, dry well?"

The god did not answer her question, merely smiling as it declared, "This is the second time I have met you. When we meet for the third time, your soul will belong to me."

Remembering the legends about gods, the maiden felt fear and stepped backward.

The god's smile widened: "You need not be alarmed. The time left for you by fate is long; you will grow old, come to have a grandson, and forever guard this village."

Looking into the god's crimson eyes, the maiden saw a snake biting its own tail, the beginning meeting the end. A web of bizarre sensations wove tightly around her, and she trembled, murmuring, "I want to go home..."

"I will send you back," the god said. "As a transaction, you must often come to the wellside and keep me company with your talk."

That day, the maiden returned to the surface with lingering fear. Looking down from the wellhead, she could only see a patch of pitch-black water.

In the days that followed, however, she seemed spellbound, sitting by the well for an entire afternoon every seven days, conversing with the well...